"Do you remember, my love," she murmured, her voice raw from crying, "how you used to come to me after a nightmare? You would climb into my bed, trembling like a leaf, and I would hold you close and sing to you until the fear melted away."
Her hand found James's, his long fingers cool and lifeless in her grasp. "I wish I could do that now. I wish I could chase away the demons that haunt you, and make everything right again with just a lullaby and a mother's embrace."
Evelyn lifted her head, studying James's face through tear-blurred eyes. Still, there was no change in his expression, no hint that he had heard or understood a word she had said. It was as if she were speaking to a void, her words echoing in an empty chamber where her son's spirit should have resided.
With a deep, shuddering sigh, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet. Her knees protested the movement, stiff from kneeling on the hard floor. She felt every one of her years weighing heavily upon her, the burden of her failures as a mother, as a guiding force in James's life, threatening to crush her beneath their weight.
"I won't give up on you, James," she said softly, smoothing his hair back from his forehead with a gentle touch. "No matter how long it takes, no matter what I must do, I will find a way to bring you back to us. To atone for my mistakes and help you find redemption."
Evelyn bent to press a tender kiss to James's brow, her lips lingering for a moment as she breathed a silent prayer for his salvation. Then, gathering the remnants of her composure, she straightened and moved towards the door.
As her hand touched the handle, she paused, looking back at the hunched figure on the cot. "I love you, my son," she whispered. "More than you could ever know. Please... please don't forget that."
With those final words, Evelyn slipped out of the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. The guards outside straightened to attention, but she waved away their offers of assistance. She needed to be alone, to gather her thoughts and steel herself for the battles that lay ahead.
As Lady Evelyn emerged from James's room, she paused for a moment to compose herself. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and her normally impeccable appearance was slightly dishevelled. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her skirts and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. She couldn't let the staff see her in such a state.
With measured steps, she made her way through the dimly lit corridors of Shaw Manor. The oppressive silence that had settled over the estate since James's confinement seemed to press in on her from all sides. Servants scurried out of her path, averting their eyes as if afraid to witness their mistress's distress.
As she approached Alistair's study, Evelyn's resolve hardened. She had spent too long being the dutiful, acquiescent wife. It was time to fight for her son.
Without bothering to knock, Evelyn pushed open the heavy oak door to her husband's sanctuary. Alistair Shaw sat behind his massive mahogany desk, poring over a stack of documents. He looked up at the intrusion, his brow furrowing at the sight of his wife's distraught state.
"Evelyn," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I trust you've seen to James?"
"Seen to him?" Evelyn's voice cracked with emotion. "Alistair, our son is wasting away in that... that cell you've confined him to. He's not eating, not speaking. It's as if he's not even there anymore."
Alistair's expression hardened. "And what would you have me do? Coddle him? Pretend that his actions haven't brought shame and ruin upon this family?"
Evelyn stepped further into the room, her hands clenching at her sides. "I'm not asking you to ignore what he's done. But this... this punishment, this isolation, it's killing him. He needs help, Alistair. He needs the support of his family, not to be locked away like some animal."
"Support?" Alistair scoffed, rising from his chair. "The boy has had nothing but support his entire life. Every whim indulged, every desire catered to. And look where it's led us."
"That's not fair," Evelyn protested. "James has always tried to live up to your expectations, to be the heir you wanted him to be."
Alistair's laugh was harsh and bitter. "And a fine job he's done of it. Drinking, gambling, and now... this. Tell me, Evelyn, how am I supposed to support a son who has no regard for the consequences of his actions?"
Evelyn felt her temper rising, a rare occurrence for the normally composed lady. "He's not some hardened criminal, Alistair. He's our son. Our flesh and blood. And he's suffering."
"As well he should be," Alistair retorted. "Or have you forgotten the suffering he's inflicted on that poor girl? On her family? On us?"
"Of course, I haven't forgotten!" Evelyn cried, her voice rising. "How could I? But punishing James like this, isolating him from everyone and everything he knows, is not going to undo what's been done. It's only going to make things worse."
Alistair turned away, walking to the window that overlooked the manor's sprawling grounds. "You're too soft on him, Evelyn. Always have been. James needs to learn that his actions have consequences. Real, lasting consequences."
Evelyn followed him, her reflection appearing beside his in the glass. "And you think this is the way to teach him? By breaking his spirit entirely? Alistair hasn't eaten in days. He barely moves, barely speaks. This isn't punishment, it's cruelty."
"It's necessary," Alistair insisted, his jaw set stubbornly. "James needs to understand the gravity of what he's done. He can't just charm his way out of this with a smile and a few pretty words."
"No one's asking him to!" Evelyn exclaimed, frustration colouring her tone. "But there must be a better way than this. A way to hold him accountable without destroying him completely."
Alistair turned to face her, his expression a mixture of anger and weariness. "And what would you suggest? That we simply open the doors and let him return to his old life as if nothing had happened?"
"Of course not," Evelyn said, forcing herself to lower her voice. "But we could... we could bring in doctors, therapists. People who can help him work through whatever drove him to... to do what he did. We could support him in making amends, in truly understanding and atoning for his actions."
"Therapists?" Alistair sneered. "You want to air our family's dirty laundry to a bunch of quacks and charlatans? Have you lost your mind, Evelyn?"
"Have I lost my mind?" Evelyn repeated, her voice rising again. "I'm not the one watching our son waste away and doing nothing about it! Alistair, please. You have to see that this can't go on. He'll die if we don't do something."
"He's just being dramatic," Alistair dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Playing the victim to avoid facing the consequences of his actions. It's all an act, Evelyn. Can't you see that?"
Evelyn felt something snap inside her. All the pent-up frustration, fear, and guilt she'd been harbouring since that fateful night came pouring out in a torrent of words.
"An act? An act?!" she shouted, not caring who might overhear. "I've just come from his room, Alistair. I've seen our son, our firstborn, sitting there like an empty shell. He didn't even react when I tried to feed him. He's not eating, not sleeping. How can you stand there and call that an act?"
Alistair's eyes widened slightly at his wife's outburst, but he held his ground. "And why shouldn't he be traumatized? He's finally facing the reality of what he's done. The lives he's ruined. Including our own."
"Our son has not eaten for days!" Evelyn cried, her voice breaking. "He will not survive like this, Alistair. Can't you understand that? We're losing him, and all you can think about is punishment and consequences!"
"And all you can think about is coddling him!" Alistair shot back. "Protecting him from the very lessons he needs to learn. Why does he get to have trauma, Evelyn? Why does he get to retreat into himself and avoid facing what he's done?"
Evelyn stepped closer, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desperation. "Because he's our son! Because no matter what he's done, we have a responsibility to him. To help him, to guide him towards redemption."
"Redemption?" Alistair scoffed. "And what about the girl whose life he's destroyed? Where's her chance at redemption? At healing? Why should James get to hide away from his trauma while she has to face the world knowing what was done to her?"
The words hit Evelyn like a physical blow. She staggered back slightly, tears welling in her eyes. "Do you think I've forgotten about her? That I don't ache for what she's been through? But destroying James won't undo what happened to her. It won't bring her justice or healing."